When I first arrived in Berlin on the first of May 1998 I was put up by my aunt in her beautiful, 130m2 apartment in Moabit.  As I strolled around discovering the neighborhood I found an abundance of what I later dubbed “Schultheiss Kneipen” after the local brand of beer in West Berlin. These were bars where old men sat around listening to German “schlager” music, drinking “korn” and flirting with the equally aged bartenders.  It was a great place to learn German since their English repertoire consisted of “You are American?  I speak English good!” but not much else.  I was a bit disheartened to say the least by the dismal state of nightlife in my neighborhood until my cousin and his friend brought me to the banks of the river Spree and over a couple six packs of beer and whatnot we discussed life, the universe, and everything.  It was a combination of a few different factors, the fact the sun did not go down until about 10pm, the warm summer air, the surprisingly floral bouquet of the Berlinerluft, the boats drifting by us as we sat and laughed the night away, and perhaps the fact that it would never be allowed in the States which gave it that illicit thrill.  For whatever reason it became one of my favorite things to do in Berlin, whether on the banks of the  river, by one of the many lakes, sitting in a park, or even just sitting on the sidewalk watching the people hurry by, some primal basic human need is filled by the simple pleasure of being outdoors with friends, surrounded by nature, without a care in the world.

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